


Things Unsaid

by Callie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-25
Updated: 2010-12-25
Packaged: 2017-10-14 02:18:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/144268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callie/pseuds/Callie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a little Christmas present for Cerie! The season seven episiode "Lost City" is one of her favorites, so I thought I'd write a little "missing scene" that I wish could have happened when they were standing in front of the hyperdrive and  Sam wants to talk about when she was at his house earlier.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Things Unsaid

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little Christmas present for Cerie! The season seven episiode "Lost City" is one of her favorites, so I thought I'd write a little "missing scene" that I wish could have happened when they were standing in front of the hyperdrive and Sam wants to talk about when she was at his house earlier.

"Sir, at your house, before Daniel and Teal'c showed up, what I was going to say was..."

"I know." Jack looked at her for a moment, then closed the crystal drawer. His face looked different, somehow; Sam didn't know if that was because of the steady color-shifting pulses of light coming from the hyperdrive, the effects of the Ancient repository on his mind affecting him physically, or both. 

Sam fidgeted with the zat in her hands, then blurted, "I know you know. But I wanted to tell you. In case."

"In case?" 

He was giving her that look again, the look that even though it gave her    
nothing   
, she felt like there had to be something else behind it. Was there really something else behind it, or was that just wishful thinking?  "In case I don't get to tell you, ever."

"Carter--" He stopped, as if he was having trouble thinking of the right words. It was a different kind of expression that crossed his face then, one that she knew meant that the words in English and the words in Ancient were crossing themselves and he couldn't sort them out. 

She shook her head. "Nevermind," she said, turning to put the zat away. "I shouldn't have said anything."

"Carter," he said again, and when she turned around he was right there, closer than before. His expression had softened, the little lines at the corners of his eyes deepened, as if he were thinking in the way he liked to pretend was too much effort, even though Sam knew better.

"It's not the right time," she said. "Things I should have said a long time ago, but I couldn't, because we said we'd leave it in the room, and now--"

Jack put his hand on her shoulder, right at the edge of where her black t-shirt met her neck. She'd watched his hands for years, doing the hundreds of small things every day that their job required, but somehow they seemed larger now, and warmer. 

It wasn't the right time, and it wasn't the right place, but Sam didn't care. There were some things that were too important to let pass, and this was one of them. If they didn't find the lost city, if they didn't find a way to defeat Anubis, then it was going to be too late for all of them. And Sam had put her duty, her country, and her planet ahead of what she wanted for so many years; she was at least going to say what she wanted to say, and do what she wanted to do just    
one   
time, just in case.

So standing there in the glow of the pulsing light of the hyperdrive, with Jack's hand a warm weight on her shoulder, she leaned in to kiss him. For one heart-stopping second, he didn't respond, and Sam's heart clenched as she wondered if she'd done the right thing, but then it was like he caught up with himself and he was kissing her back. She'd thought about this once--well, honestly, she'd almost thought about it many times, but she always stopped herself, feeling like even thinking about it was against the rules--when she was stranded on the    
Prometheus   
, and some things she'd gotten right, like the way he cupped her face in his hands, long fingers just barely sliding into her hair, and the warmth of his breath against her skin. But some things she'd been impossibly wrong about, like the fact that his mouth was much softer than its thin lines would suggest, and that his breath caught a little in his throat with a faint sound that was not quite a groan but couldn't be described by another word either. It wasn't a long kiss, as kisses go, but that was okay with Sam, because when it was over, the look that he gave her made up for all the looks over all the years that had made Sam wonder if there was    
really   
anything there.

"I know," he said again, softer this time, and Sam found she didn't really need to say the words after all.


End file.
